


Traditions

by montparnase



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Christmas fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, satsuma fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 13:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17162747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montparnase/pseuds/montparnase
Summary: Howard and Vince find their way back to their old Christmas traditions. Post S3, sort of a fix-it.





	Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any mistakes, I was drunk on xmas eve when I wrote this. Also sorry for whatever is going on with Vince's accent.

The Christmas traditions of Howard Moon and Vince Noir echoed year after year, the way footsteps echo in a tunnel; steadily growing fainter as one progresses. After Howard had returned from Denmark, Vince hadn’t even expected the holiday to be remarked upon, instead anticipating another night with Leroy and various ever changing strangers in colourful outfits. Maybe some extra glitter and a few more candy cane flavoured drinks, but that was all. And so far, that had been the case. 

The evening of December 22nd started in this manner, too many rainbow shots and crowding into bathroom stalls with a few familiar strangers, and eventually Vince lost Leroy in the blur of the crowd, and tripped on his shoes one too many times leading to someone taking pity on him, leading him out of the club and dropping him on the damp curb down the street from the club queue. 

“‘M fine, honest,” He insisted, but the girl? Boy? Shook their head and laughed drunkenly before handing him their mobile to punch in a number. Vince shook his head without thinking, digging into his jumpsuit pocket for the few squashed fags he had left. 

The person shrugged and dropped onto the curb next to him and nodded towards the fag, and Vince handed them one before lighting his, and then theirs. 

“The good thing about being fucked is you can’t feel the cold,” The person’s voice matched their appearance, androgynous and warm. 

  Vince laughed and took a drag.

“You really don’t have to stay with me, ‘Ll be fine,”

“Sure you will, but needed some fresh air anyway,” They shrugged, “how come no one’s coming to pick you up?” 

The earnestness of their voice caught Vince off guard, and so did his inability to explain the situation with him and Howard. He paused for a moment, simply watching the fag burn down, before replying,

“Me mate, we ain’t getting on too well these days. We don’t want to say it but I don’t think he’d come anyway.”

“What’s he like?”

“A fucking tit, really.” He didn’t want to think about Howard right now, not after that evening, not after the past few months. He crushed the fag into the pavement and looked out on the street, lit up with neon signs advertising any number of clubs and fast food joints. The lights were dizzying, and he quickly looked back down, “You know, before I went out tonight, he told me he regretted even coming back? He proper left me for weeks and then don’t even look at me when he comes back, can’t even be bothered with a crimp now.”

He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or whatever he’d taken in the bathroom or the lights or the cold or the intent way the stranger was looking at him, but it was all coming out.  _ Probably just took me out here hoping for a bumming in the alley, _ he thought before shrugging the thought off. Didn’t matter, he needed someone to listen. 

“I wish he’d just let me be. He don’t even want’a be here but then I leave and he gets well mad, and he just keeps livin’ at the flat even though he don’t even want to see me. You know, we used to have all these Christmas traditions? Howard don’t even like Christmas, but we’d always be chucking round satsumas or getting pissed on Bailey’s or whatever, but we don’t even got a tree or nothing this year.” Vince lit another smoke. 

“Well seems like your mate keeps hanging ‘round for some reason,” The person finally spoke, leaning back on the sidewalk and smiling like they knew some grand secret they weren’t gonna bother telling Vince, “Maybe he just wants you to put in some effort too.”

“That’s the thing, all I do is put in effort! He just don’t notice.” 

“Well maybe he don’t get that. Maybe you gotta get on his terms or something.” The stranger was getting to their feet, “Get yourself a cab home and talk to him. Good luck with your mate.” 

Then they turned and left, back to the pulsing lights and warm bodies of the club, leaving Vince on the curb with a pounding head and feeling even more confused.

\---

2004, Christmas Eve, Zooniverse

The snow was coming down heavy now, and Howard and Vince had shrugged on heavy jumpers and dressing gowns and wool socks, still riding the breathless energy of the satsuma fight. They had started doing this years ago, but this was the first time they’d done it in the snow. They hadn’t meant to, Howard had been picking up satsumas, ready to ambush Vince who had formed a sort of barricade out of an overgrown shrub, before noticing that no fruits were being chucked at him. Vince, instead, had his face turned up to the sky, eyes wide and slightly awe struck. Howard noticed the snowflakes caught in his hair a split second before Vince snapped out of his reverie, and turned to Howard, expression full of unbridled glee. 

“This is brilliant, hasn’t snowed in ages!” 

Howard had smiled right back, watching Vince turn his face back to the sky, watching him stick his tongue out to catch flakes like they’d done when they were kids, and though he couldn’t see it from this distance, he had imagined snow landing in Vince’s lashes-

He was caught with a satsuma hitting his chest, and Vince’s laugh, and had chased after him to continue the game. 

Now, inside, Howard was trying to coax the woodstove to life while Vince was pouring them drinks, keeping adding extra dashes of irish cream to each of their glasses. The fire finally caught, and Howard leaned back, catching glimpses of Vince through his periphery. He was sitting cross legged near the fire, wrapped in that kimono that Howard called hideous but secretly thought was lovely, with firelight catching his cheekbones. He handed him a glass and smiled. 

They had lost count of the drinks while decorating, stringing lights up clumsily and decorating the misshapen shrub they’d saved from the gardener the day earlier. Howard had put on a Christmas record, and they’d crimped about baubles and something about bonsai trees, and collapsed onto the floor, cheeks hurting from smiling. Howard was distinctly aware of Vince’s arm pressed to his, of the firelight, of the snow on the windowpane, of the room spinning, of his heartbeat.  _ This is how you fall in love,  _ he had thought, and then been surprised by it. 

“Wish I could stay like this forever,” Vince said. Howard paused, and looked at him, and found Vince looking back at him, wide eyes searching his face, and something Howard couldn’t identify displayed soft and plain in his expression. Howard looked away first. 

“I mean, the fire’s genius. We should have these all the time.” He continued.

Howard smiled, “We will, little man. Make it a tradition, I think.”

\--- 

Vince peeled himself out of bed at noon and wrapped himself in his kimono, intent on making some tea and then heading back to bed to ride out his blinder and replay the night until it was time to get ready to meet up with Leroy before going out again. He didn’t count on Howard being in the kitchen, reading some travel magazine on the sofa. During the day, he was down running the shop while Vince slept late, and at night Vince was out while Howard had gone to bed. They ran parallel to each other now, schedules never quite meeting up and never really reaching each other. 

Vince shuffled over to the kettle, and Howard looked up.

“Well good morning. Had quite a late one?” 

Vince hardly looked at him, instead going about making tea. He couldn’t quite face the vacant expression on Howard’s face at the moment.

“Went back to Leroy’s for afters. Was genius, you should’ve been there.” The truth was he’d sat on the curb until he’d gotten a clear enough head, then gotten a cab home, but there was no way he was admitting that to Howard. 

Howard just hummed, and turned back to his magazine, before saying “Wish I had been.”

Something tugged unpleasantly in Vince’s chest. It was a routine conversation by now, just out of politeness at this point, but nonetheless hurt whenever they repeated this new tradition. It wasn’t as if Howard would ever come with him, or he’d even want him to, and it wasn’t as if Howard would ever want to come along anyway, but they kept up this stupid facade of caring even so. His drunken words from last night echoed back to him. ‘ _ Wish he’d just let me be.’ _ Why didn’t he? Did he think Vince needed him around or something? He was fine, everything was brilliant and Howard once again ruined that. 

Maybe it was the hangover, or maybe he was still drunk or something, but it was too much in that moment. Vince set down the mug and spun around.

“Why’re you still here? You made it well clear you don’t want to be.”

Howard looked up and stared at him for a long moment.

“What are you talking about? Seems like I’m the only one living here these days.”

“What’s that s’posed to mean? You never want me here anyway, and pretend I ain’t here even when I am! Don’t even know what’s keeping you here.”

Howard just stared and stared. The kettle whistled, Vince poured his tea, and went back to bed. 

\---

2005, Christmas Eve, Dalston

Vince kicked off his snow covered platforms by the door and followed Howard through the door to the kitchen to make hot chocolate. He was grinning - it was a good job it kept snowing at Christmas, since satsuma fights wouldn’t be nearly the same without it, though there was the problem of his fingers and face having gone numb from cold during the excitement . Howard had made a point of putting their clothes on the heater, going on about being a practical man or something, and Vince was well grateful he had done so as he got dressed. 

In the kitchen, Howard was heating milk in a saucepan for hot cocoa, and outside the sky was rapidly darkening, the snow and the London lights giving the sky a pinkish glow. Vince sighed contentedly at the scene before going to turn on the tree- he had convinced Howard they should get one of them pink plastic trees that lit up. He’d seen that sort of tree in Cheekbone predictions column, and thought it was well kitschy and garish, but apparently that was predicted to be in style for approximately 2 hours and 37 minutes on Christmas morning. He supposed there was a practical use for it too, they’d save time decorating and all. The thought of skipping the tradition felt odd, but Vince didn’t linger on the feeling, because at that moment Howard brought over too mugs of hot chocolate, Vince’s topped with edible glitter and a heap of whipped cream. 

“Thanks Howard, that looks genius!”

“My pleasure, little man,” Howard grinned down at him. 

Vince’s heart clenched painfully. It’d been happening quite a bit lately, especially when Howard looked at him the way he was now, like he was the best thing since bebop, especially when Howard had no idea how he felt about him. Or if he did, he was too scared of hurting Vince to tell him he wasn’t interested. It was wholly new to Vince, who in his memory, had never been rejected by anyone, especially now that he was going out with Leroy more. Maybe that was what made this sense of rejection stronger- all that going on and getting attention from everyone but Howard. Because it wasn’t like his feelings for him were new, they’d been there long as he could remember. 

Vince shrugged this train of thought away, before taking a long sip of hot chocolate. It was Christmas, he was here with Howard, they’d had a genius satsuma fight, and his pink Christmas tree might be featured in tomorrow’s 9 am issue of Cheekbone. 

\---

At around 4pm, everything made sense to Vince. Or at least, more sense than things usually did. He’d been echoing the stranger’s words back to himself all day, and feeling rather nostalgic for Christmases past, when it sort of fell into place. He bolted upright and pulled on the outfit he’d laid out for that evening’s clubbing, and made some phone calls. 

\---

The 25th of December dawned gray and dismal, and by the time Howard got around to getting out of bed, it was snowing outside. He felt an automatic sort of excitement- snow meant satsuma fights - before he remembered he’d heard Vince leave last night, and had fallen asleep before he came back. It was unfair of him to be bitter about this, and it wasn’t necessarily that he disapproved. It was the growing distance between them that bothered him, which wasn’t helped in the least by the self sabotaging frustration with each other that both of them couldn’t help but express whenever they saw each other. Vince hadn’t even bothered him about Christmas decorations and a tree this year like he had every year before, and Howard couldn’t help but wish they could go back to the Zoo, before they’d gone wrong somehow. A possessive nastiness in the corner of his mind wished they could go back to when he didn’t have to share Vince with the people of Camden, but he brushed that away. Vince was happy. And Howard had missed his chance with him ages ago, anyway. 

He got dressed slowly, mentally readying himself to spend Christmas morning listening to Jazz records, perhaps phone up Lester, until Vince got up at some point in the afternoon, and then get himself together enough to give him the present he’d gotten him. It wasn’t much, and Howard wasn’t quite sure why he’d done it, but he knew he’d been being a tit lately, and maybe he hoped it’d be a sort of peace offering as well. The only problem was that it’d be caving, and Howard Moon did not cave. 

He was caught up in serious emotional turmoil about whether to give Vince the gift or not when he entered the kitchen, and stopped dead in his tracks. 

It seemed as least half the room was filled with tree branches decked in tinsel and lights and baubles, leading back to a towering evergreen in the center of the room. He assumed it was Naboo- where had he gotten such a lovely tree on Christmas Eve? Shaman connections perhaps. 

This theory was disproven by Vince appearing from behind the tree, holding two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. 

“Morning Howard,” he grinned. Howard didn’t move, his eyes widening. 

“You’ll catch flies or whatever standing round with your mouth open all day,” Vince laughed, “Want some cocoa? Don’t know if I made it right, got bored of the recipe halfway through and kinda improvised.”

Howard wordlessly accepted his drink and went to sit down on the sofa, and Vince followed. 

“What’s this?” Howard gestured around the room. 

Vince blinked, “Our christmas traditions,” he answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But why? I thought you’d be out all day today,”

“It’s always been you who does the Christmas things, and who looks out for me and all, and I thought I’d give it a go this year.” Vince answered. Howard took a long sip of his hot chocolate, trying not to wince at its flavour. It was pretty clear Vince had dumped a tub of Nutella and not much else in the drink, but he’d made an effort anyway. 

There was a brief moment of silence where they sipped their respective drinks, Vince apparently finding nothing the matter with his, before Howard broke the silence. 

“I’m sorry.”

Vince looked up, licking chocolate from his lips. Howard tried to convey everything he wanted to say in his eyes, willing Vince to understand what he felt, why he’d been this way. Vince just raised his eyebrows,

“What for?”

“Just- the way I’ve been acting lately, little man. I’ve been pushing you away and acting as if I didn’t want to be right here.” 

Vince pondered that for a moment before saying softly, “I’ve been acting like a right tit too. I didn’t realise how hard you were trying and that I was trying in different ways.” He smiled sadly, for reasons Howard couldn’t fathom. The unpleasant feeling in his chest was different, the idea that Vince was right there and even after all these years, he’d never be close enough to Howard. 

He made up his mind and got to his feet with a, “Be right back,” before hurrying to find Vince’s gift in his room, and then bringing it back out, holding it behind his back. He had found it while on a rare outing to Brick Lane market in search of jazz records, and had spotted the Kiss jacket in the back of a stall, and bought it for Vince before he’d known what he was doing. 

“I’m sorry it’s not much.” He said, before handing Vince the parcel. 

Vince was looking up at him with wide eyes, as if looking for some sort of affirmation it was okay to unwrap. Howard nodded, and he tore off the paper to reveal the jacket.  He stared down at it for what seemed like forever, before looking up at Howard, vulnerability plain across his face.

“I thought you wouldn’t- I thought you didn’t care. I’d well thought you’d wanted to leave.” 

“I wouldn’t- I won’t,” Howard said softly. He hadn’t realised it’d mean to much to Vince, that it’d be more than him simply trying to maintain some peace during Christmastime. Some nagging part of him reminded him that maybe Vince really had given up, and that’s why it meant so much to him. He sighed softly, before smiling gently at Vince on the other side of the sofa. 

Vince was looking back at him, his gaze full of the kind of intensity Howard had missed for years, his entire life maybe. Maybe it was just Vince he had missed, because everything in that moment seemed like it fit, the final piece of a puzzle he thought would never come together; a jigsaw puzzle in the way he knew this was what it was supposed to feel like, in the same way the picture on the box gave you a sense of the endgame, yet it had never seemed like it would happen. 

“Vince, I-” He stopped himself, “I do care. I’ve always cared. And maybe we’ve been on different pages lately, or I’ve been reading the entire wrong book, or-”

Vince cut him off, leaning in and pressing his lips to his briefly, and then pulling back, looking in his eyes. It wasn’t the first time they’d kissed, yet it seemed everything they’d put each other through lead up to that, to this, and now Vince was leaning back in, winding his fingers in Howards hair, pressing his thigh to Howard’s- 

They broke off to quickly, too soon. 

“D’you remember what I said, back at the zoo? That I wanted to stay like this forever? I meant it. I mean it.” Vince was smiling and smiling, fingers trailing through Howard’s hair and over his face.

“I thought- I - “ He hadn’t realised, and for a second he was struck dumbfounded by how stupid he’d been. “We’ve lost so much time,” Howard finally managed out.

And Vince said, smiling, “We’ll make it a tradition then,”  the lights reflecting on his eyes, and the snow falling outside, and Howard felt for the first time since he returned home, where he belonged, like he could live the rest of his life like this. 

Then Vince pointed to a pile of satsumas, and gestured towards the window, “Satsuma fight?” 


End file.
